


Lose Your Mind (Keep Our Bodies Close Together)

by themayqueen



Category: Hanson (Band)
Genre: Clothing Kink, F/M, Mutual Masturbation, Post-Divorce, Public Masturbation, Secrets, Sexting, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Social Media, Texting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-11
Updated: 2018-04-11
Packaged: 2019-04-21 17:46:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14290083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themayqueen/pseuds/themayqueen
Summary: Zac shares a dirty secret with a fan.





	Lose Your Mind (Keep Our Bodies Close Together)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [xhorizen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xhorizen/gifts), [wholelottalace](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wholelottalace/gifts).



It all started at the bar after the show. It wasn’t that nice of a bar; Marcella and her best friend Annie had picked it because it was two blocks from the venue and not as likely to be crowded with Hanson fans as the ones lining the street where, just a few hours before, they had watched them play. They had waited in line all day for a spot in the front row, and Marcella could have sworn that Zac looked right at her during his solo.

That was silly, she told herself, as she stood at the bar waiting for the bartender to deliver Annie’s vodka soda and her whiskey sour. She could feel eyes on her then, and she knew that wasn’t her imagination.

She spun around to find the source. Zac Hanson himself. No, she definitely wasn’t imagining it that time. She handed Annie’s drink to her in a daze.

“That’s a strong drink for someone so…” Zac said, his voice soft and low. He chuckled softly as he trailed off, as though he had amused himself.

With her heels, they were almost the same height. He seemed larger than life on stage, but now he was just a man. No, that wasn’t right. He was the only man in the bar that Marcella could see, the only one who mattered. The only one who, with one look, could make her tremble.

“Someone so what?” Marcella asked before she could stop herself. 

Zac shrugged. “I’ll let you know… once I’ve gotten to know you better.”

Marcella raised an eyebrow, staring Zac in the eyes as she took a long sip of her drink. He stared back, his gaze intent and full of an emotion Marcella couldn’t quite place, and she decided she had chosen exactly the right bar.

Zac guided Marcella and Annie back his booth, so secluded in the corner that until they approached, it was impossible to see that the entire band and crew were hiding there. He pulled her into the roomy seat, so close that her bare leg was pressed against his jeans. The heat coming off his body made her head spin as much as the alcohol did.

They talked for hours, sharing four more drinks apiece and barely conscious of the others around them. Annie made the crew laugh loudly, but Marcella couldn’t follow any of their jokes. All she knew was Zac and the way he rested his hand on her thigh. It was probably a mistake or a force of habit, but he _was_ recently divorced. There had been plenty of talk over the last six or seven months, but no fans seemed to know for certain whether or not Zac was really on the market again.

When the band finally said goodnight, Marcella checked her phone as a force of habit; she had set it on the table but had been so engrossed in Zac that she hadn’t looked at it at all since sitting down. 

There was one new text, the sender somehow labeled as ZWH. She opened it and saw a blank message above it, sent from her own number to him. 

_You shouldn’t leave your phone sitting when you go to the restroom. Someone might add their own number to it._

****

Marcella waited a full week before she texted him.

Like the fan she was, she was glued to her phone, soaking up every new picture and video from the tour. Every glimpse of Zac was like water to a person lost in the desert, and it all brought her back to sitting in that booth, talking about nothing and everything with him.

When someone posted a photo of him in a sweat-soaked white shirt and tight, gray vest, her resolve broke. She opened her texts and typed a quick message to him, closing the app out and hiding her phone deep in her purse so she didn’t have to see his response.

**You should always wear that vest.**

Hours later, she worked up the nerve pull her phone out and check it. To her surprise, there was a response. What it said surprised her even more.

_You’re just here for my body, aren’t you? Not the music at all._

**It’s about fifty fifty ;)**

_I’m not sure whether that means I should step up my game in the studio or the gym…_

**Just wear that vest and you could sing Justin Bieber to me, I wouldn’t even care.**

Marcella knew she was walking a fine line. Was she flirting with him? Was he flirting back? It seemed that way, but she couldn’t be certain. In any case, she still had an hour left to waste at work. She turned off notifications, stowed her phone again and focused her attention on boring but tedious paperwork she had been ignoring all day.

That night, when she climbed into bed and placed her phone on the nightstand, she finally found the nerve to check it again. One new message, and this one was a picture.

It was difficult to tell, because the photo cut off before anything truly interesting could be revealed, but he definitely wasn’t wearing a shirt. But he _was_ wearing the vest, the top button straining to the point of popping open as he contorted himself to take the photo. The faintest hint of a hip bone was visible in the bottom corner, suggesting that Marcella was right about his lack of any other clothing. If a wisp of his golden brown hair hadn’t been visible over his shoulder, Marcella wasn’t sure she would have believed it was really Zac. Three words accompanied the nearly-obscene picture.

_Like this, baby?_

****

Marcella left Zac hanging. At first, it was an unconscious decision borne out of her disbelief that he had really sent that picture. Why was he doing this? And with her, of all fans? She wasn’t anyone special, no one any other fan would recognize or care about, nobody important. But maybe that was part of the appeal; no one would ever suspect that this was happening between the two of them. It was a safe way to explore now that he was free to do so. Marcella could understand that, if nothing else.

The next evening, as she got ready for bed, she chose a particularly nice pair of blue satin pajamas. She wasn’t even sure why she had bought them—she always felt so silly trying to look sexy—but right then she was glad she had. She hoped Zac noticed the color.

Marcella sprawled across her bed, feeling more ridiculous by the second. She picked up her phone and held it above her, hoping she didn’t drop it on her face and break the glasses she was still wearing so she could see whether or not she’d gotten a good shot. She placed a hand on her stomach, nudging her tank top upward and letting a few fingers rest just against the waistband of her shorts. 

She snapped a few photos, then chose the least blurry. Her fingers trembled as she typed a text to accompany it.

**Does this answer your question?**

****

She fell asleep not long after, although she had tried to stay awake to see how Zac responded to that. When she woke in the morning, she was surprised to see that she had missed a phone call, rather than a text, and that there was a new voicemail alert, too. She pressed play, and wasn’t surprised to hear the sounds of a busy bar behind Zac’s obviously slurred voice.

“Mm, I guess you must be asleep. Or just busy... I didn’t get your text until after the concert tonight, and you are killing me here. Do you know how… hard… it is to deal with this kind of personal problem in a tiny tour bus bunk? It’s not fair, Marcella. Not fair at all. You in that tight little skirt, s’all I’ve been thinking about since we met. Or you _not_ in that tight little skirt… I’m not picky… anyway, why don’t you call me back sometime and we can some more about our clothes… or the lack thereof. Goodnight, naughty girl.”

Marcella unplugged her phone from its charger and pushed back her covers. It was going to be a long day at work, she decided.

****

She made a point of leaving her phone in her car while she was at work. She couldn’t afford to be distracted by Zac again, even as he continued to up the stakes on this… whatever it was between them. She didn’t understand it at all, but she was down for the ride regardless.

When she got home from work, she saw that Zac had posted a series of videos on his Instagram story. The first few were innocent enough, showing the band rehearsing for their concert that night. In the last one, though, he was getting dressed for the concert. His tight shirt was half-unbuttoned and he held up a few vests, asking the fans to pick which one he should wear. When he held up the familiar gray one, there was a look on his face that Marcella had no doubt was just for her. He was daring her, pushing her buttons; this was what she got for leaving him hanging all day. 

Marcella closed Instagram and opened her contacts. She tapped Zac’s name, but this time, instead of texting, she pressed call. If he wasn’t alone and couldn’t answer her, she figured that was probably for the best. She could leave a voicemail and not have to worry about his reaction. 

Of course, he answered.

“Hello?” He said, his voice soft and low; he knew who was calling, but he was playing it cool.

Marcella took a deep breath, closing her eyes and imagining the first photo he had sent her. “Don’t wear the gray vest. That one’s just for me.” 

“Is it?” Zac asked, a hint of amusement in his voice. “Do you touch yourself when you think about me wearing that vest?”

“I do,” Marcella said; it wasn’t entirely a lie. There were few things Zac said, did or wore that didn’t make her desperately turned on. 

“Touch yourself for me right now.”

Marcella leaned back against the wall, glad that she lived alone and no one could possibly judge her for doing this right in the hallway of her apartment. She let her hand slide into her skirt and past her lacy panties. She was already wet; it was just the effect Zac had on her.

“Well? Are you doing it?” Zac’s voice was a little gruff, and it only turned her on even more.

“Mhm,” Marcella managed to squeak out. “Thinking about you… but you’re not wearing that vest now.”

“Fuck,” Zac breathed out. “Can you show me?” 

Before she could ask exactly how he expected her to do that, the call ended. Almost immediately, a Facetime request popped up. She accepted it and was greeted with a close-up view of Zac’s face, his eyes dark and a smirk on his lips.

“Show me,” he repeated.

Marcella tilted her phone and let it drift down her body. It was difficult to get the right angle, but for Zac, she would try just about anything. She nudged her skirt further down her hip, giving him a better view of her hand moving beneath it. 

“Good girl,” Zac said. The picture on the screen went black for a moment, and all she could hear was shuffling. A moment later, the picture reappeared, blurry at first and then perfectly clear. He must have propped the phone up on something, she realized. He was sitting somewhere, and she watched as he used both hands to unbutton his pants, lower the zipper and pull out his dick. 

It was long, thick and already hard. Marcella could practically see it pulsing even on her phone’s small screen. She let out a gasp almost in spite of herself. “Oh my god.”

“That’s what you do to me,” Zac replied, wrapping a hand around his length and giving it a few slow, deliberate strokes.

Still holding the phone out in front of her body, Marcella wiggled out of her skirt, letting it fall to her feet. He hadn’t asked it of her, but it was the last she could do. She was soaking wet now, barely able to focus on the screen. Zac’s moans and groans were the best sound she had ever heard, and she wished she could record it all to play back every time she needed a little something extra to help get herself off.

“Are you wet for me?” He asked.

Marcella nodded, lowering the phone a bit to give him a better view. “Mhm. So wet. All for you. That’s what _you_ do to _me_.”

“Yeah?” Zack replied. “Did you get wet during the concert? I bet you did.”

“Every time you looked my way,” Marcella admitted. “Every time I see you.”

For a moment, Zac’s hand blocked the screen, then he came back into focus, his hand now moving at practically breakneck speed. His thumb ran along the head of his cock where she could see that pre-come had just started to pool. Marcella’s eyes crossed and her vision blurred; being able to see the real thing, even if only on a screen, was almost more than she could handle. She let her head fall back against the wall and thought back to his solo at the concert, how he had danced right in front of her and reached out his hand. How things had changed so quickly…

She was so far gone that she didn’t notice the exact moment when the call ended. She snapped back to reality when her phone began to vibrate in her hand, her text tone going off loudly. A series of texts from Annie lit up the screen.

_OMG OMG OMG_

_You will not believe Zac just did_

_He’s live right now_

_On IG OMG go watch it now before he realizes_

_OMG Marcella OMG_

As Marcella struggled to make her hands work and open her Instagram app, she realized she was covered in a cold sweat. With a trembling hand, she clicked on Zac’s story, already wondering if it could possibly be what she knew it must be.

The angle was slightly different, little more visible than the head and his hand wrapped around it. His chest was heaving, his white t-shirt clinging to his chest and stretched practically to its breaking point. It was perfectly clear to anyone watching just exactly what he was doing. His moans and sighs were just as lyrical as they had been a moment ago, and Marcella couldn’t decide if she wanted to hear him say her name for everyone to hear or not.

She flipped back to her messages and typed a quick one to Annie.

**You’re recording this, right?!**

_You know I am!!!_

**Send it to me when he’s done!**

_Girl, I got you!_

Marcella knew she should do something. She knew she couldn’t let this go on. She wanted to see it, but not like this. It made her weirdly jealous of the other fans, ones who no doubt harbored hope they would someday get to see the real thing, too. But he was doing this for her, because of her. It was her moment and she wanted it for herself.

She opened her contacts again and called him back. She wanted to Facetime, but she wasn’t sure she could look at him right then. Maybe there would be another chance for that.

He answered breathlessly. “I am in… so much trouble. And it’s all because of you, naughty girl.” 

“I didn’t make you do any of that,” Marcella replied, laughing in spite of herself, “and I definitely didn’t make you all thumbs so that you’d ‘accidently’ create your own porno for the fans.”

“Accidentally, huh?” Zac repeated, giving a chuckle of his own. “If I was going to do that, I’d make it a little more interesting than that. Nobody wants to see some dude jerking off.”

“I think you underestimate how dirty all of your fans are,” Marcella shot back. The fact that the two of them were talking so casually after, well, everything, made her head spin almost as much as watching him on Facetime had.

Zac laughed loudly. “Maybe I do, if you’re anything to judge by.”

“You haven’t even begun to see how dirty I can be,” Marcella replied, figuring at this point she had nothing to lose.

“Haven’t I?” Zac replied. “Well, you know we’re coming back through your city in a few weeks… and I think you owe me, considering the hell I’m going to be going through. Just imagine—everyone is going to be wondering what made me do that, and only you know the truth.”

“Then it sounds like you’ll owe me for keeping my mouth shut and keeping the truth just between the two of us.”

Zac was silent for a moment, and Marcella feared she had said too much. “Keep your pretty mouth shut, and I’ll make it worth it when we come back through Colorado. I promise.”

“Deal,” Marcella replied.

****

Marcella followed all the fansites, but she had somehow missed the announcement that Hanson was coming back through Denver to appear at some sort of beer festival. It wasn’t her scene at all, but neither was it most Hanson fans’. That meant there was less chance of seeing other fans there, and more chances of seeing Zac. The day before, he had texted her the time and location of their appearance; it was dumb luck that she was off work that afternoon and that her office had handed out complementary tickets.

It was like the universe _wanted_ her to hook up with Zac Hanson, Marcella thought to herself. Who was she to argue?

The Hanson Brothers Beer display was exactly where Marcella expected it to be. There was a crowd around, but it was a mixture of hipsters and beer snobs, with only a few girls she suspected might be other Hanson fans. It was easy enough to slip into the crowd and paste on a fake smile, like a starstruck fangirl.

“Hey, what’s your name?” Zac said, turning toward her and blocking her from his brothers’ view.

“Marcella,” she replied. “I’ve been a fan for years. I really like that new porter, too.” 

Zac smirked. “Yeah? You seem like more a hard liquor fan.”

“Is it that obvious?” She shot back. A few other fans were closing in. To keep up appearances, she pulled her ticket from her pocket and asked, “Would you mind signing this for me?”

“Not at all,” Zac replied. He fumbled around in his own pocket for a moment, then pulled out a sharpie and scribbled on the ticket.

He transferred it to his left hand before handing it back to her, pulling her hand into a firm shake. “It’s really nice to meet you, Marcella. Hope you enjoy the rest of your evening.”

“Oh, I’m sure I will,” she replied, feeling the weight of more than just her ticket in her palm.

As she walked away, she opened her hand and peered at what it held. In some kind of ridiculous magic trick, Zac had managed to wrap her ticket around a hotel keycard. Next to his signature was a room number and a time.

****

The rest of the afternoon and evening crept by. Marcella was ready and waiting for Zac more than an hour early; luckily, there was a bar right next door to his hotel. She found a seat by the window and nursed two drinks, not wanting to get drunk, just to take the edge off a bit. Texting and sharing photos was one thing, but seeing him in person like this was something else entirely. Now that it was so close to happening, Marcella’s stomach was full of butterflies.

The alcohol stilled them just enough to give her the courage to walk into the hotel and toward the elevator. Zac’s room was on the fourteenth floor, which made for a long elevator ride. At least she was alone; Marcella was constantly on high alert for other fans who might have somehow known where the band was staying.

She got lucky. There were none. No one would know what she and Zac were about to do.

Once she reached his floor, Marcella pulled out the keycard and ticket again. The room numbers were in descending order; her heels made a muffled sound against the carpet as she walked down the hallway to his room, 1403. 

She debated knocking, then decided against it. She had the key, and he was expecting her. Marcella slid the key in the door and waited for the click. She opened it just enough to squeeze through, not knowing what to expect, although she should have guessed. 

Zac was sitting on the bed, wearing nothing but a pair of tight black briefs and that same damn gray vest. His hair was loose, spread across his shoulders like something off the cover of a cheesy romance novel. Marcella wondered how he already knew all of her favorite things. 

“I wasn’t sure you would come,” Zac said, a hint of a smirk on his face as though he heard the pun in his words, too.

“Then you still don’t know me very well,” Marcella shot back.

Zac patted a spot on the bed next to him. “Well, let’s change that.”

Marcella smiled, sliding off her heels before walking toward the bed. Nothing had happened yet, and Zac had already made her night. Before it was over, she was sure she would be _very_ glad she had come.


End file.
